And then you are down. And you realise you’ve been hit. There is warm blood trickling from your nose. And then someone is pushing your face in the gravel while another puts the boot in. Hard, brutal, ruthless boots to the head and stomach. And then your ribcage rattles and all the oxygen in your body bursts out your mouth. You are defenseless, choking for air as a flurry of blows knocks your head this way and that. And then you lose a tooth... And then your sight... And then consciousness. Only when all is black does the pain stop. And then you wake up. Your assailants have gone - just a white van driving off in the distance. The skin from your knuckles is scraped raw from the struggle. You sit there, in the wet and cold, the cuts and blows stinging more than when you took them. And as you push the blood away and dust yourself down, you ask yourself: “Why? Why me? What did I ever do to deserve that?” And then it comes. You remember. Once again, you had broken all the rules.

My time in France is coming to an end. Five years here have taken their toll. I have lost one tooth too many and the invisible sculptor who chisels with a scathe has began hollowing out the flesh from below my cheekbones. The history that I have tried so long to hide is now unhideable. I’m beginning to look like The Man who looks like life.

But that has not always been the case. In London I was vibrant and full of energy. My face was clear and youthful and sweet. Sometimes I even charmed myself. But looking in the mirror now I feel unrecognisable to the man I was then. And not just physically. I feel something has changed below the skin. I feel I have died a little more.

France has not helped. In fact she has accelerated my decline. My existence here has been a constant struggle. There has barely been a week passed without some kind of drama or worry. If it wasn’t the police knocking down my door, or days spent waiting for my dealer, then it was relationship troubles, exploding ovens or apartment fires. Only the other week I was knocked up at 11pm and informed that my then partner of six years was in hospital after swallowing a belly full of her mother’s Xanax. It seems that life can never just pass, she always insists on leaving a calling card.

Two weeks ago I commiserated my 34th birthday. For the occasion I received one card and one death threat. That put my life here into perspective and I’ve had enough. Enough croissants, enough pain au chocolats, enough random police searches, identity checks and bureaucracy. I am tired of the language, the people and the bars. I can no longer queue quietly for an hour to buy tobacco on a Sunday. I can no more hang around for eight hours in stairwells scoring obscenely cut heroin. I am sick of it all. It’s five years that I have been here, five years that will not tick into six. I am preparing for the exit, ready to flee the country and flash my arse at the last copper I see.

But it’s not time to moon at the law just yet. I am in no position to do it. I’ve barely enough money to put a roof over my death, let alone flee the country. There are also medicaments and repeat prescriptions to think of. Until I can either transfer my script elsewhere or reduce and stop my medication altogether, I am once again constrained to my immediate environment - bound on an upside down cross. Even without the drug worries, five years leaves a lot of attachments. And so before I make my exit I must make certain things good, or at least plug the holes.

One of the latest holes to plug and something which has now become critical is finding a new apartment. A broken relationship and a wandering heart have left me with less than a month to find a place to stay. My habit of not protecting myself and trusting in others humanity has shot me in the foot again. My decision never to officially put my name to the joint property we shared has left me at the whim of another. And that is not a good position to be in, especially when that ‘other’ spends their days wishing upon you a violent and painful death. I should have learnt by now that humanity disappears with love. That if one goes west, one goes west alone. But I suppose I do not want to believe that. The world becomes too sad if that is the case.

My search for an apartment began full of hope and confidence. Me believing that within the same afternoon I’d be in a new place with my own keys. But France doesn’t work like that, there are no simple transactions here. “Six weeks, minimum,” I was told, “that’s the timeline you should realistically plan to.”

"Six weeks! No, that’s impossible. I’ve money for rent and deposit and have an income. How can it take six weeks?”

Eight weeks later I am still nowhere closer to finding a place. In fact, I am even further away friom it. My deposit I blew on four weeks in a hotel and 15 grams of heroin.

But I don’t regret that, money wasn’t the real problem. The real problem is that France is a country of bureaucracy... your money counts for nothing if you don’t have the correct papers. People live in fear of it. There’s no screwing up your payslips and overarming them into the bin here. That would be tantamount to administrative suicide. No, in France people tiptoe down the halls of bureaucracy, praying to all 5495 Gods that they have the correct papers. But you NEVER have the correct papers. And if you do, they’ll invent another one just for you. It is soul destroyingly frustrating, and if you are as disorganised as me, it’s impossible.

So, I didn’t post my dossiers off, I didn’t even fill them in. Instead, I holed myself up and spent my time numbed by opiates, telling myself: “something will turn up... a solution will come, it always does.” Well, that solution hasn’t come yet and now I am in the position where I have three weeks left at my current abode and then it’s shop doorways and pillows under the sky.

But it’s unfair to blame France for my woes. She is another country with a different language, protocol and laws. It’s me who is at fault, refusing to do the things that are demanded of me and trying to busk through the unbuskable. It’s me that will quote laws that do not exist and then stand there to a shaking head and the words “Well that’s not the information I’m in possession of Monsieur. Desolé.” All the little tricks that I had perfected and relied on in England do not serve me here. It seems impossible to get what I want, even what I need. And it’s now too late to backtrack. It’s too late to fill in the dossiers... too late to put my applications through. I’m down to the cardboard, burning my lips on the roach.

The time for property agencies, guarantors and carefully worded contracts has gone. That takes too long and is too long term and legal. No, what I require now is an unscrupulous businessman, someone with absolutely no morals and a nose for money. A person who’ll take my readies and then put me in a rat infested hole that is only worth a third of it’s price. I need that. This is no time for flat hunts and cosy apartment views. It’s a time for handshakes and notes in the top pocket, the oldest contract there is.

And that is me... that sums it up. Nothing is ever quite legit, but always on the edge. I sneak along the line of illegal activity, always something in my pocket which could get me into trouble. I break the rules and I take the consequences for doing so. And the consequence is stress and worry which leads to heroin which leads to sacrifice, unpaid rent and bank loans. This in turns instigates relationship failings, brothers, white vans and bruised ribs. And this, all of it combined, is the real consequence, because it shows on the face and under the eyes. It marks you for life with life and leaves one looking like the Prime Minister after eighteen months in office.

And that is the debt I pay to be able to write these words. They are not just there... they are not free of charge. I acquire them at a 50% interest rate. I will die closer to forty rather than eighty. I have surrendered more than just a few teeth. The truth is, the marks I wear are not the marks of living but the marks of dying, and that is the paradox of The Man who looks like life.

I don't like change... I put it off as much as I can.But sometimes it is necessary, sometimes you have no choice. But I always find that once the change is made I enjoy it... and then promise to NEVER change again! ;)

I know what you mean when you say that life takes an interest charge on your soul when you live like we junkies live, even when your straight your heading for a curve..Take good care shane...P.sIf you land back in the U.K it would be great to meet and swap stories like old time junkies do..LOL

I'm sorry to hear of your recent troubles. I wish you good luck and best wishes but more than anything I wish you could rid yourself of H/Meth for good.

I've lost yet another good friend since I last visited here due to smack and thats partly why I haven't come on here lately. I don't want the same to happen to you Shane. You are better than that. I know your addiction is probably last thing on your mind with all your other troubles but if you deal with that one first,then life will become better for you. I'm sure of that.

I cannot imagine feeling alone and lost in a strange land, strange people etc. When my husband died June 1, I had the life epiphany that I am now alone and there is noone on this planet who will have my back. It is a scary feeling. Do what you must. Change is scary but sometimes necessary. I enjoy your writing and you have a gift. As Jim Morrison said, No time to wallow in the mire. It is so easy to become complacent and just do another bag of dope and worry about tomorrow another day. Fight the fight Shane. Fight for your life and your happiness. Don't you think you are entitled to a little piece of sanity? There are numerous times where I want to call it a day, swallow my bottle of Xanax and leave the dramatic note. I will not quit. I am hoping you don't either. Do whatever it takes Shane. Whatever it takes. I am rooting for you.

I think all places have their time and this is probably the end for France as far as you are concerned. Wishing you luck and my thoughts are with you making such decisions are so hard but I think you know inside that the time is right to move on. Do you know where you will go? I hope you get some clarity and something goes smoothly love Ruth x

I'll always keep up the fight... I'mnot a quitter and neither of a depressive temperament. Ok,my position isn't wonderful at themoment, but I told it and now I try to arrange it. I only ever search the positive fromsituations, but I also am not scared to put my immediate emotions on display. If I'm down or a little disheartened I will say so.

I actually visited an apartment today.It's small (very!!! lol) but it's qite nice and is better than nowhere. I must meet the owner now, and hopefully we'll be able to come to an arrangement.

Oh it's nice to see you still come here... because of the lack of posts I was sure I'd lose all those people that I'd become close to. So thanks for sticking around.

No, I'mnot considering England. It's a possibility, but it's too easy to score there and I don't want to fall back into that every single day. I willkeep the UK for holidays and short visits... aything longer would be too dangerous (at the moment in any case)

Love returned...I hope you're well and wil pop over to yours very shortly. Shane.x

I know you're correct in all you say, I know it, and I'm looking into that. I can't make promises as they will only get broken, so maybe one day you'll read a post starting like this:

"It has now been 6 weeks, 4 days and 47 minutes since my last fix. For the first time in 10years I have decided and wanted to go straight..."

If it comes, well it'll be dedicated to You. As for staying away, you've earned that right... & you didn't miss much. With allthe troubles I've hardly been posting. I think there were only 2 posts (shameful! lol)

Anyway, wonderful to have you back and to hear from you... you're welcome any time (you know that!!)

Although you've posted more often in the past, it does seem that you are still updating your blog at least once a month. Which is a good thing, because you're still sticking to some kind of routine.

Most of us hate change. You don't have to be a junkie to hate change. It's often easier and more comfortable to simply remain where you are. Change is painful and difficult, and therefore one's natural instinct would be to avoid pain and stick to what we know. But if a situation becomes unbearable, sooner or later we are forced to make a change, in the hope of improving our situation. It is only when you have given up finding solutions, or can't even acknowledge that change is needed, that all may be lost. So even though your post seems morbid, there are still some positive aspects to it. All the best to you.

ShaneHi.Sorry dude but I am gonna say this as a friend and I hope you read it that way.Stop fucking whining and do what you have to do, which is the boring shit that consumes everyones lives. Get in line, do the paperwork, smile and be nice, we all have to do it, it's the fucking system, OK you hate it, well newsflash everyone does.....You are talented and one of the most caring people I have ever met but you're talents and care are not going to be worth shit if you are homeless...I know...I was.....I'm not gonna say 'good luck, hope it works out' thats the language of losers...get off your ass and fucking sort it man...then you can moan all you like.As I said...I say this as someone who is a friend and who values what you do, who loves you, I just hope you read this in the spirit...Nick

Yes, you are right. It's the end here... my time is up. Though I've been a little harsh, as France isn't a bad country... there are many good things here & it's still been a very creative 5 years.

I'm not sure where i'll go. I will not be returning to London. I love that city, it is my home, but it is also 'heroin paradise'. It is too easy to score and there are too many people & dealers I know to resist. Ok, I don't resist here, but it's not all the time...2 or 3 times a week (maximum). I don't want to go back to using everyday, because that is where all creativity stops. From my years of addiction in London, I didn't write ONE WORD, or paint. I thought of doing it, but it never happened. Heroin makes the user passive... nothing ever gets done in the midst of proper addiction.So London is out... at least whilst heroin is still a thought in my mind. I'll stay here for a while and have a think of what I will do.

Oh, I think I found an apartment! On ebay of all places. Good news hey? It's from a privte landlord and up for rent immediately. It's small, but suits my needs. I viewed it today, and will meet the owner tomorrow afternoon - hopefully to finalise it.

So things are looking up. We llkew they would. My life has been such that an apartment hunt isn't going to be the thing that will finally lay me out...it will take something much bigger than that!;)

Anyway, thanks once again for reading and commenting... the time people give means more than I am able to say...

Of course it will be fine... it's gettig better already It's just a little bit of life, that's all.

I haven't read the book you mentioned.I Googled itand it seems interesting so I'll see if I can get hold of a copy. At worst I can rip the pages out and stuff them in my shoes to keep my feet warm!! ;)

Yes I'm still adamant to keepthe blog going and hopefully now I'm back online there willonce again be one post per week. he lackof posts wasn't actually to do with the recent problems (or a little), but was more todo with my book I'm writing.I was concentrating on thatas there is a bit of interest around it. So i've been working on that.

Yes, there are positive aspects to the post. The most positive is that I've been through much harder things and an apartment hunt will not be the thing that sinks me. It's strange how the post is interpreted so differently from the writer to the reader. For me it was quite humourous. Ok, there were some serious or worrying things in there, but also (I thought) enough light sentences to take the edge of it. I think because I am living it and not reading it, I've a greater insight into that and know that all will be fine. I always say, "If I write about it, it means it's fine."

Anyway, things are looking better& should be settled in a new apartment by middle of next week. The pillows under the skywillahve to wait...

i feel like u enjoy pain. that's possibly why im attracted to ur blog. A talented human u r, that can be greatly successful and renown..but it seems like u run away from it. being spritual and searching for a deeper meaning is a part of every human being...but capturing life for what it CURRENTLY is, now thats the trick.. u r talented... u r one of a kind.. a lot of people r interested in ur writings...ur photography and ur art.. phenomenal.. its got a breath of life in it, the reality of life.. it disappoints me that you have all signs u need to change ur life (not just monetarily) and take u into great horizons.. other ppl dream of the talent u have...

again, what captures me about you is that u enjoy being sad. we all enjoy drama in various degrees.. but do u indirectly place yourself in situations that cause u undeniable grief?

Are u one of those guys that know that the way to any successful and smart woman's heart is helplessnes and the need to be loved??

You've mentioned one many times how smart u r... u've even mentioned it in ur blogs.you act helpless though i feel and sense u control every feeling u undergo..

is this just another scheme? cuz if it is, ur damn good. u got my undivided attention.

I'll never lose friends over blog comments... you've a duty to say what you feel. That is the only rule here. I wouldn't want anything else. But I also have a duty to reply to those comments if I feel they are unjust or missing the target. I think you know me well enough to know I'm not a whiner. I never berate life, I only accept all the china she chucks my way. I duck, and sometimes I avoid the teacups and sometimes I don't. But I never whine. I think you misread the post.

The post is about social failings and about personal failings. It's of the moment...the emotions of standing in line and tutting and cursing. But it is finally self critical, because it admits that the real problem is ME. It doesn't blame life, it doesnt blame france, It comes back to me and my failings. But there are system failings also, and I cannot accept "fall in line!" Do you realize the consequence of what you say there? What would happen if we all "fell in line" just because "that's the way it is"? What if the minorites just "fell in line"?Zipped up and took the blows? We'll there'd still be black men hanging from trees and homosexuals being tied to the backs of cars and dragged to death around town. To "shut up and fall in line" is NEVER an option.

"Good luck, hope it works out". Yes, it may be the language of losers, but why would you ever wish me 'luck'. You know my history well enough to know I don't need nor believe in luck. An apartment hunt is not going o sink me... it's nothing, just a flea bite. What about "I don't wish you luck as I know there's no way you'll be waylaid by such a petty problem!"

I think you also know that I'm not a man to sit around on my arse as the world collapses. If it was the case,I'd have been buried a long time ago... you know that. I get the impression you was pissed off at something or someone before you replied... I feel that. But maybe I'm wrong (it has happened once before! lol)

So I leave this here. I took your comment in the spirit, but also replied in the spirit. All that's really important to me is the fact that you once again put your time and words this way... & that will always mean more than anything else. I enjoy the truth, and immediate expression and so can only ever take comments in a good way - even if I don't agree with them.

Anyway, the love I return is still 'caps locked'... the thanks I express genuine. All My Best, Shane. X

PS: excuse me for no reply as yet to last mail. I was offline at home and didn't even have time or opportunity to post here. It was 10mins here & therein internet cafes. Though I've access once again at home now, so things will pick up.

PPS: Appointment tomorrow afternoon to put deposit on an apartment. I should move in by latest wednesday next week.

Cheers for your reply. Yes I'm baring up thanks mate. The ironic thing is my mate who died (Dane) had gone 6 years clean. The recent death of his sister sent him over to a £10 bag and the poor sod died. He'd just become a Dad himself which makes it all the sadder. So let that be a lesson to you when you DO give up (and dedicate the post I'm so looking forward to,to yours truely) Don't bloody relapse! I'm glad your "looking into it" anyway. Its a start.

I've been waiting in haste for your next post and I'm so glad that you've written. I've spent my life being told that I was going to be someone. That I was "special." I am 29 years old and I have been on the quest for the extraordinary since I have had my first conscious memory. Ironically, I don't have the visage of a man/woman who looks like life. People would think I have everything. But they are easily fooled. Inside is where MY decay lies. I medicate myself differently than you do Shane. It is controlled and legal---but it is still very heavy and like you, without it, I could not function. I couldn't get out of bed without my pills. Why? Because I feel like I have failed life. Shane, I'm not even 30 years old. I have internal dialogues with myself. I am in agony in my head. In my heart. You'd be surprised at how similar we are. I moved to a foreign country (as you did to France) to escape. I lived in London for 9 years thinking if I was a ex-pat and lived in a fantasy land maybe THAT would be the catalyst to make me extraordinary. I fooled myself for almost a decade pretending to live a life of a fairytale. I was in denial because facing the truth that I was NOT extraordinary and would probably never be, was too much.

I rant.

My point is that we, on the outside, are polar opposites. I have pearly white teeth, glossy hair, perfect skin, a bit of change in my pocket, and a rent free roof over my head. But---my insides---if only people could see my insides. I reckon they'd be as deformed as Dorian Gray's portrait or your scarred face. I hope we can continue to have a dialogue. I read very few blogs. And even the few I read do I find a connection with. You've snagged me Shane. Please, write. I will again, wait in haste for your next installment still dreaming of becoming somebody and hiding behind my pearly whites at the strangers who don't--have-- a-- fucking-- clue.

After our recent emails I had a feeling you'd be leaving France soon. Shame it's ended the way it has, but such is life. Email me soon, so we can talk more behind-the-scenes. And if you're heading back to this ol' country, then we must arrange some time to meet up and talk properly. It really has been way too long.

Hi Shane its so good to hear you talk like that, avoid London as its your nemesis ! But enjoy your heroin in a controlled way.. This way you function your life has purpose you can write paint and create. Which is so important .. because you don't choose live the norm doesn't mean you are wrong, You are probably more at peace and live more each day, than the business man, that arrives home stressed, and hits the whiskey bottle. The acceptable drug that I think is far more dangerous and more addictive than any opiate .. keep writing you are very eloquent , and fascinating love Ruthxx

I do not enjoy pain - it hurts too much!! Also, real pain or real tragedy are not creative things. When one is really hurt, really hit hard by life it is internalized, not externalized. So realpain is not an enjoyable thing. But I do enjoy my life, and I do not curse the world for the things I have experienced. My words and art comes from all that which passed before my eyes and ears and nose. So I am thnkful for what I've experienced. When the pain stops hurting, I enjoy it.

You say people dream of the talent I have... that may or may not be true, but if so they want the talent WITHOUT having had the life. That's not possible...the two come hand in hand. It is often the extremes that force out valid expression... art becomes the only way to express oneself. You cannot express truthfully that which you do not know... you can not make observations on the things you have not seen. So as I say, the words do not come for free...there is a huge price to pay. I am willing to pay it, but not eveyone is.

I don't enjoy being sad either, and am very rarely down. I have that emotion (as we all do) but I am not a sad man. I am happy and my days are spent joking and looking for humour in this world. Often that humour is dark, often it is blacker than black! ;)lol

I never search out tragedy or such situations... they just come. Maybe my lifestyle accounts for that, I don't know. All I know is that one day it's calm and the next all hell breaks loose. It's neither planned nor desired. Of course when it happens I use it... I try to turn it into something positive.

The way to a womans heart??? Do women have hearts??? lol No, I understand what you say there, but that's not a thought in my mind when expressing myself. All I'm interested in is showing a human being with passions, faults, complexes and loves. And no, I'm not in control of those things... I cannot pick and choose how I feel. My highs are real highs and my lows real lows... I cannot control them. I can only control the way in which I express them to the world.

Yes there's a huge shout for prescribed heroin. I'm for it (of course!!lol). The controversy though(outside of giving addicts free heroin) is that they do not encourage the addict to stop... that they encourage prolonged drug use. There is one scheme in London where you ca get prescribedheroin, but one has to be almost dead to get it.

Squat laws here ae this: someone phones the police and they arrest you and put you in prison! There are no squatter rights in france.

Anyhow, fingers crossed as I should have news any moment now, that I've found a small apartment. I'll let you know.

Yeah, I posted... it took a while though! I’m back online now so hopefully I’ll be ableto post more frequently. It’s never a creative block that stops me, just time and energy.

I spent my life being told I was never going to be anyone:”Put the guitar down and get a factory job!” Well I did that... I done it for a long time, but that is no life. People tell me that heroin kills, maybe, but it kills no quicker than shovelling bricks for 8hrs a day, barely earning enough money for the return journey to work. It’s not just drugs or alcohol that is detrimental tolife and creativity... so much of what we do is that. Demolishing buildings and filling his lungs with asbestos wasn’t too healthy for my grandad..

And who says You’re NOT extraordinary... not to the world, but to yourself? Who’s to judge in these matters. If you feel it, you are it... if you walk down the street and feel taller than you are, then who’s to tell you differetly? It can’t always be based on success... sometimes people are SO extraordinary that it is invisble... sometimes you have to die to be noticed. That’s sad, but so often the case.

For me we must perservere... keep doing what it is we do. Success is in ‘thedoing’ and not in the recognition for doing it. That is a different kind of success... but financial success should never be one’s true goal. Of course it’s nice to be recognized... to have the praise and the cheques, but the most important thing is to do something that pleases yourself... to express yourself in a way that no-one else can. To create the things that your favourite artists, writers or musicians never did. That is success to me... and it’s only YOU who will ever know if you managed that.

Thanks once again for a wonderful comment & hopefully you’ll not have to wait too long before the next post...

Yep, it has been too long but we'll definately arrange something. I don't know when, but I will not be away forever. I'm waiting ona few things here ad then I'll be in a better position to know what I will do. I'll send that mail you speakof.. I promise!!! lol

A healthy mind comes from a healthy body... and vice versa..just couldnt help but wonder what artistic creations you would present to the world if u change your outlook on life and your life style.

To say I have had a life harder or easier than yours is a phallacy..Each person's vision of the world is different and what we have been brought up to be plays a role in our definition of hard and easy. Some words, however, we all share the same understanding of: past, present and future.I had an ugly past, I live my present recklessly but i would like to have a brighter tomorrow.That drop of hope, that need for change and improvement is the exact thing I was commenting about earlier.I feel like you, by complete accident, have created a monster. Through this blog, you have found a way of expression and much care and concern from random people. But, sadly, this need for recognition and support will drown you further into the deep agonizingwaves and keep you away from the shore..

Its not ok that you hurt yourself.Its not ok for you to burn your apartment.Its not ok to lose the one you love.Its not ok for you to depend on a chemical created by mankind to control and hypnotize the mass.Its not ok to thank drugs for your talent and creativity.

And even though it might mean the end of your tragic blog and the entertainment of many..I can't wait for you to announce that ur finally free and can control every single thought that crosses your mind.

Im not a narcotics free person..But i believe that this life was a gift given to me.. and that I control every move, action, thought and expression I make. Im a madman, Im a lover, Im a saint and Im an angel. But I am free and unchained. I do what I want, when I want; nothing controls me. I want to do it, not need.

No need to bother with a reply :)

I feel you've got my drift.. and only time and more experiences will let the words settle in. I just hope you remember them.

You say there's no need to reply, but there is... It's unfair to allow you to think as you do... I think you're quite confused as to what I feel about this life.

Firstly, no, a healthy mind does not come from a healthy body.That is a old cliché and if you think about it for a moment you'd see how nonsensical it is. We are all in the process of dying... we are all unhealthy. The polluted oxygen we ALL breathe ensures that. So, we are then all mentally ill? I could agree "yes", but that gets into discussions which are not for this comment thread.

If I changed my lifestyle or life my art would be the same. Art does NOT come from drugs or substances but from a need to express oneself. All that would change if I quit drugs would be the subject matter... if I quit heroin I'd write about something else. But the subject is supeficial... there is the overall expression that links ALL subjects. That expression is the artists take and ideas on living ad dying. Expression comes from the soul (not a spiritual soul, but the essence of the individual). That essence is untouched by alchol or drugs. So my words would be the same, they would just come under different titles.

I do not feel life has created a monster in me... you misunderstand so terribly. Life has just run her course. She has given me no more pain or trauma than anyone else. I celebrate life because all those experiences have given me MYSELF... My own unique voice. I donot regret nor damn the past. The past WAS NOT bad or ugly, it was just 'the past'. It is a part of ME and so I celebrate it. The past has led me to a wonderful present... into the arms of beauty. I could never regret history, it contradicts what my art is about. You speak of pain and sadness, but I never do... I don't because my life is not that.

You are right I express myself through the blog, but it is not cathartic to do so. I am not ill or need to be healed... I do not write for that. I write for poetry and words and art. I write to express the world (my time in it) in my own way... in the way no one else has done. It is not about expressing hurt or traumas. They are old wounds and wounds which have healed a long time before I ever write of them.

As for support...well, again you speak with the mindset of the masses.Support is for the unstable and I am not that. The only support I need is a soft bed... I do not need the cares of strangers... and my writings do not ask for that.

Its not ok that you hurt yourself. (But we all do. Breathing is suicide... drinking water full of bacteria the same)Its not ok for you to burn your apartment.(Not even for the insurace money?)Its not ok to lose the one you love. (I didn't lose the one I love...I found her. I lost the one I didn't love.)Its not ok for you to depend on a chemical created by mankind to control and hypnotize the mass. (Like the media? Like caffeine? Like tobacco? Sugar? Vitamins? Painkillers? Antibiotics?)Its not ok to thank drugs for your talent and creativity. (I never have...I only thank myself and life. Read a little more carefully)

As for contolling evey thought that crosses my mind... do you really think that would be a good thing? Wouldn't the world be so very sad if we could all do that? And no-one can. Even people tee-total & drug free, no one can control their thoughts. Can anyone in this world explain where their sexual fantasies come from? Well then.

You say you are a Lover, a madman, a saint and an angel and that you control every move you make. But a madman does not control his/her moves, nor a saint or angel. All move under the command of a higher force... none are free entities. You should think a little more before writing.

Ok,I willleave it there also. I think/hope you got my drift. And I hope you don't take these words badly because they were not written in that spirit. I just replied to a comment that didn't make much sense to me... I've explained why.

nope not really.. think u misunderstood me. ur not the monster. u unintentionally created one thru ur blog (the monster being ur blog) I understand you are sharing a story, but am scared ur indirectly encouraging others.

"But a madman does not control his/her moves, nor a saint or angel. All move under the command of a higher force... none are free entities.." R u a free entity? Is the higher force moving you to consume?

Listen.. didnt mean to upset you and sorry im not making any sense to u. Maybe im not blessed with the gift of explaining and elaborating. "Leave the bread for the breadmaker to create even if he eats half of it."

PS what i meant by that i control me, is that i dont rely on anyone and try my best not to be dependent and reliant on anything, including a fix. im a saint and an angel and a madman BECAUSE i can't control my feelings, emotions and fantasies.. I control my mind in the sense that no "Alien" substances are controling my being.

And yes sugar and pollution and cheese and cigarettes are bad for everyone just like drugs..but I guess its my choice not to be passive about the whole issue. It's my world too. I know it's messed up in VARIOUS ways, but I choose not to give up on it..

Firstly you didn't offend me.. no-one that gives me their time offends me. I just didn't find myself agreeing with what you said. I'm an honest person and if I have problems with statements i will say so and explain why.

I cannot indirectly encourage others... no-one is to blame for others behaviour. If someone has typed "heroin" into Google and finds me, then they were already looking for that. If they didn't type "heroin" & found me and then take heroin, then they were already open to the idea. People who do not want to do something cannot be made to. Have you ever tried to move a dog that doesn't want to move? it's impossibel.

As for the blog being a monster, no the real monster would be silence. Silence and censorship. Must we hide everything that 'could' have a bad influence? That would mean closin churches,mosques, temples,political parties, bars, tobacconists, bookshops,libraries, schools, cinema's, music, painting... etc, etc. That thinking becomes very dangerous... thoughts like that are monstrous.

I've never said I was a free entity.. I know I'm not. At the end of this post you ae commenting to I said so. Life has given me these words. I am a product of this life and times... there's nothing free about it. Throughout my writings you will see that repeated... I've never said anything else.

To each his own,yes, but one must be ready and able to justify their thoughts. One must think carefully before speaking.. read carefully before commenting. More than drugs or alcohol, it is that which is more dangerous... there are more idiots hit and killed by buses each year than addicts. Who then is the most dangerous???

You take care... & keep inmind that heroin addiction does not affect the thought process... it's only the pain receptors that are dulled. All my best, Shane. x

have you ever tried depriing yourself of oxygen for 2 minutes and then thinking clearly? Ever tried drinking unsanitised water...free from chlorine or purifiers. Well your body would become quite ill. We are all reliant upon alien substances... everytime we get ill we run to the doctor demanding them. The whole world does that... the planet is livig off 'alien' substances. For me nothing is alien... it all derives fromthis earth. man made or not, it's origins are organic.

I'm glad I only came across this today rather than when it came out, because things seem to have improved since then.

The post seemed a bit bleak,but since reading the comments and replies I can see that you've got things moving on.

It's amazing the variety and class of commentators here.

So you can take heroin only 2 or 3 times a week - I thought that once you were on it you had to keep 'fixing' every time it ran down or you got withdrawals. I suppose that's all movie stuff.

True what you say about relative dangers. A mountain climber was asked if he didn't feel guilty about taking such risks when he had young children who could become parentless. He replied that he was taking far less a risk than say a bus or taxi driver/driving instructor etc who spends 40 hours a week on the roads where statistically so many are killed.

So is the book something separate from the blog stuff? I assumed it would be the stuff on here, re-edited and re-arranged for book format. Is there a publisher/contract etc?

Great to see you never lose the poetic (or sense of humour):

It seems that life can never just pass... she always insists on leaving a calling card.

...sometimes I even charmed myself.

Two weeks ago I commiserated my 34th birthday

I can no longer queue quietly for 1hr to buy tobacco on a Sunday.

you NEVER have the correct papers. And if you do, they’ll invent another one just for you.

I didn't even read the blog.Just wanted to let you know I sent you a email as to what the deal is with me and check my blog as well for update..lots of love sent your way!love you! miss your emails!stay Up!sKILLz

OMG . . I have incredible goose pimples after reading all of that, especially the closing paragraph! You are such a wonderful writer that I feel your pain and long to stretch out and touch your cheek.

I so want to know what happens next! I've been away, visiting Portugal . . I've been having a tough time and so hubby, dogs and I just upped and ran away and it was a blast but we're back now and so I can now catch up on what I've missed . . and it seems I've missed quite a bit.

You're a survivor and so I'm thinking you'll land on your feet once again and that soon you'll be able to happily look in the mirror once again 'cos 34 is way too young to be talking of dying!

Shane, I always write my comment and then read what others have said. I do it this way because I don't want to be influenced by what others have already said. Shane, I learn so much this way and I absolutely am in awe of the responses you leave so that we can understand you more and not put our own values onto you.

The more I read the more I am inspired by you Shane. You have really lived life and I for one am totally hooked!!

I think drug culture is incredibly fascinating (mostly because it is a realm of life I am far from experiencing) but I wanted to tell you that from your stories I have learned not to pity but to learn and observe...if that makes sense.

Shane, I admire you for your courageousness and your intelligence. I sincerely hope for your safety.

That's really very kind what you offer & I am touched, but when I started this blog I made a promise to one of the early followers (Longy) that there would never be such a thing as a donation/paypal option on this blog. I will not break that promise. However, if you've ever any paid writing work I'd certainly do that. It's much more honest and deserving, and I also get to honour at least one promise I have made in this life.

Thank you very much for your words... your offer is really appreciated.

I've not seriously thought of gong home, no. The reason is the smack... it's too available and i know I couldn't resist. It'd be one day, then "oh, just today... I'll go back to the meth tomorrow". Then it's monday again and meth doesn't work and even if it does you want heroin. o, at this point in my life I need to be somewhere where heroin is not... at least not easily available. I cry about that, but it really is for the best. I think good things ca come in this period and I don' want to lose that all in a few bags. So, thank you again for all you offer to do, and if I am considering heading back home or your way up north, i'll certainly let you know.

I've stuck your mail addy in my contacts so you can mail whenever you like.. I'll do the same.

So you can take heroin only 2 or 3 times a week - I thought that once you were on it you had to keep 'fixing' every time it ran down or you got withdrawals. I suppose that's all movie stuff.

No, it's not really movie stuff that. It's true. But if it is not readily available, or you have a substitute (methadone or subutex)it's possible. It's possible here because it can be so hard scoring (many evenings impossible) but in London I couldn't do it. Heroin was always a 10min walk away... and was always available. In those circumstances it's very difficult to opt for the substitute, which is really second best. So it's possibe to have frequent but not daily use in certain circumstances. For the 6 years i was an addict in London, there were only five days I never scored. Two of them was during the Afhan war, when US trops were doing border patrols and the heroin was rerouted, causing a huge drought. The other times it was either through lack of funds or because the dealers were all out.

Concering the book I'llsend you a mail. I don't relly want to discuss it her as it's stillunder discusion. But yes, it's somethig different fromthe blog. I'll send you what I set the agent, and give you those details.

You know, I knew you would get the humour.Yes the postwas a little bleak (aren't they all? lol), but as I was wrting I was thinking who would enjoy or comment on those snippets,and you was the one person who I thought would definately find them. I was right!!! For once.

Your circumstances have changed since I made my (I think it was my first) comment re Paypal. I said what I said because in my own experience around Heroin adicts,they have always needed money.

Right now,unless I stand corrected,you need money for a different reason (a roof over your head) so why not go for it and stick a donate button on here. It won't change my opinion of you at all. Theres actually alot of music blogs with Paypal donation buttons on them which is a bit rich considering the music posted isn't there own (I'm not guilty on the donate button but guilty of the music of course) but your work here is your own,written by you so theres no need to hold back...especially on my account.

Hey I might even chuck in a tenner myself for you (as long as its not for a bag)

Hi Shane.As you requested in your reply,i was thinking of you this morning as i made my poppy based purchase!I dedicated the substance to your good self and toasted your good health,fortune and creativity before consumption.Concerning your thoughts about leaving France,maybe the UK would be the best place to travel to next,regarding opportunities,relationships etc.It's so much easier to communicate and express yourself if your intimate with the language and culture.Also the meds situation,whether getting legal meth/subutex or other.Waiting hours in a stairwell etc as you mentioned is soul destroying.It's very easy to find gear/meth here yet i only choose to use gear 2/3 times a week,sometimes none at all.Other days are dhc or meth to give that contented/creative outlook i choose to see the world through.It's not escape or some underlying angst due to my past(and i appreciate my family more now since reading of your life,so thankyou),but due to the fact that i believe a little opiate used carefully benefits me and my life in all areas,like someone who would use alcohol or coffee.Like devotionalhooligan said,it's the illegality of drugs that cause problems,being supplied by dodgy characters.I agree with what you said about using daily and how you are contented to sit back and just think about lifting the pen or brush.Although that would apply to the pin however.If smoking it's easier to get things done.The money situation starts to niggle though and one gets annoyed at all the heavenly vapours making their northerly escape,which could have safely been contained within the syringe.And so,purely due to economic reasons of course,thoughts turn to the pin...Have you thought about returning to London,sorting out meth daily and trying to stick to using a couple of times a week.If the urge is too strong,head north or south.I think maybe your best opportunities lie over here.So much easier to duck and dive due to language and the culture you know so well.I'd be glad to help out with the meds situation if you arrived,having your order ready for you when your feet touched UK soil,but unfortunately i'm in Scotland not London.If you decide to come over and find that you need someone this end to make any calls concerning setting up a script or sorting out a roof over your head,getting hold of your old doc or friends etc,give me a shout mate.Email at the bottom.Be happy to say your a family member or something arriving from Europe and need to sort out meds before arriving. Maybe a good thing to have that daily green sorted out so your first few weeks are not spent doing the dance and all the stress that can involve. All the best,Ed

Christ this was so good I want to get violent. I want to drop some F bombs. You certainly did not disappoint for your first post back... what was that line, "The paradox of being the man who looks like Life" - FUCK I have to commit that to memory. That it looks like dying. You talented Fuck! Hahahaha christ Shane I love this writing. I want to punch your blog it is so fucking good.

Is the price worth it? And I don't for a second doubt that your valuation is correct, not for a moment - but is it worth it? As Ive said since I started here, it is an awful goodness, it is guilty, it is sick and dirty and you have to pay for it. I don't have to pay for it, you do. Like probably everyone here, I'd be so happy for you if you stopped it all, even if it meant the blog - but like all of us here I'd be sad for me if you 'straightened up and flew right'.

We have enough people that look the same and talk the same - and we have more than enough sad sacks who wish they looked and talked like the Lucky Ones. You say you want a revolution? Be different - have a different idea - fuck the status quo and rage against the machine.

The real truth is you would have paid no matter what - at least this blog is some way to capitalize, even if it is free and even if it is just for sharing. I have to keep telling myself that. Because I want to keep getting the shivers when I read things like The Man Who Looks Like Life. I have some serious back-shivers right now from this FUCK shit! Goddamn, we love you man.

(btw -the questions and commands at the end aren't really for you, they are to myself, looking at your example - and I don't mean fuck rage against the machine, I meant to put a comma in between those two thoughts, "quo" and "rage" - I was writing with my fists because this shit got me pumped)

I just read the comments section (ha - like another commenter, I too write first and read after, for similar reasons - I want to respond to you first if at all and not harp on others' takes) and saw a common theme arise - common in that it seems to come up every so often here.

It should be pointed out that I think the majority of people here aren't addicts, and won't be any time soon.

Certainly not because of this blog anyway. There have been times, and certainly there has been art that influenced this, when I thought about heroin in a romantic way. I've never done it and don't think I would, but I've thought about it. As much as I hate linking art/entertainment to influence over people, I have to admit that there have been bits of both that resonated with whatever I was going through at the time and made me think of heroin in the same way we sometimes romanticize vampirism.

This isn't one of those places.

After reading this account for months, I don't think I could even stomach the idea. This blog has been an assault sometimes, an assault on the senses. We are pulled in by poetry, but often it feels like the author, once close enough to touch, suddenly grabs you by the ears and pushes your face into the carpet to smell all the mistakes and the badness.

I've SMELLED heroin, and the heroin life, through this blog. I've smelled impoverished junkies' asses and feet through this blog. I've smelled their deaths, their bloated corpses, wide-staring eyes looking at me, mutely saying "how the fuck did this happen to me? Oh, that's right..."

I've heard the most awful things on this blog - mothers screeching hate, fathers conniving to steal from kids, and friends betraying each other forever. Even the humble narrator has revealed himself to be an awful person over and over again.

This blog is the sights and sounds and smells and feels and even the tastes of honesty. When it comes to heroin, there's just no way one could read this and rationally, normally, think "yeah, that's for me. Can't wait."

If that's happening to someone, there's something abnormal going on - and we have to go beyond classifying or shaming those people. We have to start celebrating humanity in its totality. So even if some 'weird' person is getting the 'wrong' ideas here - as Oprah Winfrey says (infuriatingly) "I speak your name!" Hahaha I think I have to vomit now.

Anyway - I'm no experton Heroinhead or psychology. But I'm a reader here and that would be my take on the moralities and influence of this blog.

And Shane - I'm still feeling murderously good about this post:

You spent time awayYou've come back to playI bought a new knifefor ending your life

It's nice what you say, but I will respect my promise. I'dlike to keep this place 'pure', not writing for money or obligation.. not checkig my bank accout after I post, etc. It was never about that, and even if there can be moments where the money is a little tight, well, that's life and we all must deal with it. Your comments are the better payment and they cannot be exchanged for a few bags.

Yes, there is longing when I speak of London, because so much happened there and in many ways I wish I could return. It's the city I grew up in and a city I love. But at the moment it would not be a good place for me... I think after a week I'd be back using every day, not writing & probably reminiscing about Lyon!

Oh, did get the apartment finally.. so things are not as bleak as they were beginning to look.

It's 5am here... the keys to the new apartment are on the table covered in coffee, the contract looks like the dog got a hold of it, but it's done... I did finally manage to come good. I will reply to your words in full a little later... just sending you ALL my thanks for now.

Hi Shane,I am probably your newest reader. You have such a flair for writing, please don't ever stop. I came across your blog as I'm new to this site as well, was just browsing around. Your title caught my eye. I used to be addicted to cocaine, an ex boyfriend got me hooked. I haven't used Since December 2000. That particular ex happens to be the father of my son. When I found out I was expecting, I had been sober for 2 weeks. All of the sudden, knowing I was growing a life made it SO much easier for me to stay clean. I didn't even have severe cravings anymore. However, "he" kept using cocaine. The bigger my stomach got, the worse his habit. He moved on to crack. Once my son was born, he began using heroin. Here I am, still a single mom, clean & sober, 7 years later, and sadly, he can't kick the heroin. He & I don't talk much anymore but I know he's not doing well.

Anyway, having that in my background is what made your blog catch my attention. My heart goes out to you, I want nothing but the best for you. I'm sure I sound silly as I don't know you, just what I've read. Despite the shit you've endured, you're a good hearted person and you deserve good things to happen to you.

I hope you find a place soon. Please take care of yourself and I definitely look forward to reading more of your fascinating words.

it's often the case that somene gets onto heroin because of crack. It's not a progression, it's because crack, when finished, leaves the user very nervous and anxious. We call it the 'jitters'. When feeling like that one searches fo something that will stop it, bring you back down... heroin does, immediately. So many start using a little heroin to com down from crack, but then find that they get a taste for heroin as well. Finally, heroin being the cheaper of the two drugs becomes ones drug of choice. But heroin, unlike crack, is physically addictive and after a while is neded to even function.

Whatever, it certainly wasn't you or the pregnancy that pushed your boyfriend in that direction... I think he would have went there no matter what. Once you start down that road,there is really nothing anyone (not even yourself) can do.

Oh, the new apartment... if I can really call it that! lol Lets say I've rented two toilets... a big one and a small one! But it's something at least, and for a moment it looked liked I wouldn't find anywhere. I left a few things there today and will move in during next week.

Thanks again for your comment... hope you and the child are doing well... All my Thoughts & Wishes, Shane.

um, you just have a SHITLOAD of karma from past lives to undo... and you keep adding to it?? (Just a theory ;)

actually I have a friend somewhat older than you who was a bit of a drug addict in his younger years...there were two defining moments he attributes to coming clean-first was when the ghost of his dead grandmother came and sat on his bed all night...and later on the ghost of his dead grandfather...for him that was compelling enough...been clean ever since.

God, I only wish my Grandad would turn up one night. At the time of his death he was on liquid morphine to kill the pain. My aunt had only two days previously collcted his months prescription from the hospital, but it mysteriously disappeared with his parting. I'd ask him where the hell he put it! I'll promise to clean up if he tells me...

Just checking in to see how you are making out. The basics, do you have a roof over your head? Someone who is dear to me told me to always have a game plan. Of course I never listened, but now I keep that in mind. Try to map out some sort of plan to improve your situation. America is full of paperwork and beauracracy. Nothing happens here until the right papers get pushed and shuffled and eventually signed. Please don't give up hope and keep perserving...

I find you extraordinarily inspiring (on one read - I suppose I may curse you as a one-legged donkey frigger by next week)... No, I shan't do that. Wonderful wonderful writing and I wish I could do more than just wish you good luck and hope that something turns up... You should have a donate button young man. . .

Yo homie man WTF with these fuckers coming up on you and jumping on you? Do you know who or why or have some idea of it?

Remember I was supposed to be DEAD by now and I'm not, I'm here for a reason and so ARE YOU. So you hold your head and EMAIL ME because I have thing I would rather say to you in private ya digg?!Stay Up!

Well it's a long story, but nothing so terrible that I should have been jumped like that. Just a broken relationship, that was all. Though that's not a litle thing, it's not a crime and we can't help our feeling.

I sent you a mail, but haven't been around o send another... I will do... I promise!!!

no, it's very touching what you've done... and also saved me from having to write a few anonymous comments!!!;)

It happened once before. in the early days trying to get a few readers for the blog I left a remark about it in some forum or other:

Memoires of a Heroinhead, a wonderful blog... so well written... it's rare you find such a quality online, etc etc

Well,a few months later I came across it and was delighted at what I thought someone had said. As always, when I find such things I copy and paste it into a little archive I keep of compliments and criticisms of the blog. It was only after archiving it and reading it once again that it suddenly came back to me... It was me who wrote it!!!! LOL.

so at first i was thinking that i've never had to get beaten upor borrow money from "dirty" alternative sources at the price of your skinbut then i realized that so often in order to keep a roof over my headwhen all i could think about was keeping the comfort under my own skini had taken money from my familyat the expense of their love for meand the money not repaid has festered into desertion.so much time spent couch surfingand sleeping wherevereven pretending to be unresponsiveon someone's floor you don't even knowbecause you have nowhere else to go when you stir.

its fucking ridiculous.and i haven't done any of the shit i used toin six months because the last time i snuck iti fucked my back so bad i couldn't walk for weeksand i don't even really remember howbut honestlyit didn't make me stop anythingit just made me hide it bettermove from shooting one to smoking anotherin isolation.i don't really regret the things that i've donei'd probably change a thing or toobut i don't regret them because in the throes of helli've learnt truths about myself i never would have known.

i write about my times sometimes.but, shane, your flow is epic.its given me a new lease on truth.

p.s. i didn't have to be totally bored or needing something to do to read this.

These things are all a consequence of my life and though it's not always pleasant or fun they work for me in a strange way. I don't enjoy them, but as they've happened I might as well use it for a good purpose - writing.

Yeah, bankloans are "dirty"... you can't loose a few teeth to clear your debt with them fellas... they want you evicted, jobless and with a 10 year blacklist against u=your name. It's gangsterism with a smile... that's what banking is.

I've no regrets either, I'd do it all again if given half the chance... But as I'll probably be reincarnated as a blind and legless Mayfly, I doubt I'll ever have that option. ;)

I try to put my soul in my writing, to tell the things which are hard to say. Those are never acts, they are my internal emotions - what I really think and feel... my strengths and weaknesses as a human. It's nice sometimes to be completely honest. For me, it's a luxury, because in all my relationships I've hidden myself. I only showed what I knew would be accepted and celebrated. But in the backroom, or as the shower stood running, I was living a life and doing things to myself that would have horrified those around me. Here (on Memoires) secrets are told... here is the only place where the real Shane exists. If you remove the adjectives you will find my truth... it's as honest as I can be without lying.

Take care Dusty and thank you so much for your words.

Shane. x

i write about my times sometimes.but, shane, your flow is epic.its given me a new lease on truth.

p.s. i didn't have to be totally bored or needing something to do to read this.

I found your blog when I searched for heroin addiction. Your experiences in life here makes me feel so interesting about you. I don't know what to say more. But I will always visit your blog. keep posting.

dearest ive been thinking about you so much these last few weeks, i'm lacking the technology just a quick message on here, but give me a gap and i'll be on your ass.....i hear you....i know you hear me.....not much sleep, many tears, a few shots a lot of fuck this...give me a day or so and i'll send the relevant words...kissesclaire angelique

Morning Shane. It's Kate from Sunny Swansea, again, it's sunny. I don't know how I've only just noticed and read this one. I feel bad for enjoying reading your misery. It was somehow nice to read that the same old shit follows heroin around the globe. I see it in other addictions too...where the pawn shop is situated next to the betting shop and a pub. I owe the pawn shop a massive slap over the head. Same as the doorstep loan people....yes..bloody Provident. Massively pissed off this morning as I decided to score. Really really shit gear too. I think it had something in it but can't tell cos I already had my Meth this morning. Wanna twat the guy who sold it to me too. At least I wouldn't feel guilt if it was decent gear. Sorry . I'm in a moaning mood. Reading your post just then helped my moaning brain, so, thanks! Shit, just realised that you wrote that years ago. You seemed ready to run away from France THEN! I often think about getting the fuck out of Britain. I know though, that it's just a pipe dream. Especially if I'm still dabbling on the dark side. Have you researched on how to get your script transferred to over here? I suppose you'll need to know exactly where you're going to be staying...have you worked that bit out too? Any help I can give please don't hesitate to ask. Wouldn't hurt if i asked out of curiosity when I next go for a piss test...though I know that Wales' drug rehab and drug clinic stuff I different from England. By far. Anyway, my comment is starting to make no sense whatsoever. Sorry about that. Kate xx

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